McGonagall: A History
by The Tears That Heal
Summary: This is the tale of a muggle who becomes a witch; a little girl who becomes a woman. It is a journey through life, through love, through loss. It is the story of Minerva McGonagall; sister, friends, lover, fighter and teacher.
1. The Prologue

Prologue

Prologue

"Cameron!"

"Cameron, where are you!?"

The little girl's voice was almost drowned out by the howling wind as it raced across the fields of gorse and heather.

"Cameron!"

Lightning flashed overhead, briefly illuminating the landscape; it was swiftly followed by a crash of thunder. Minerva jumped at the sound. There was only a couple of seconds between the two. The storm must be right above her.

"Cameron!"

Her long dark hair was now plastered to her face. The rain lashed against her delicate, pale skin and rivulets of water ran from her eyelashes, down her long straight nose and onto her chattering lips as she, herself, ran stumbling. She heard a noise and turned.

"Cameron!"

"Minnie"

"Cameron!" She called again as she fled towards the sound of the voice as the lightning flashed once again; guiding her way. In the light she saw a tree, leafless and stark in the cold winter night. She saw a figure on the ground at its base and hastened towards it. Stumbling on the uneven ground.

"Cameron," she panted as she fell to her knees next to her little brother who was lying, curled into a ball on the muddy ground.

"Cameron, are you…" She could hardly breathe, she was exhausted "… are you," She never finished her question.

"Minnie he's hurt." The boy turned his head to look at her. His sandy blond hair was so wet it looked almost black and his lips were a cold, cold blue. His small body trembled as he tried to uncurl his numb limbs "You're hur… he's… who?" The little boy held out his hands to reveal a small bedraggled ball of fluff.

"Cameron put that down, come on," The lightning and thunder flashed and crashed simultaneously above them "lets get home, mother's going to be so angry." She tried to pull him up but he tugged his jacket sleeve away from her.

"No Minnie, he's only little, I'm not leaving him." Minerva McGonagall peered once more at the small bundle in her brother's hands. He looked at her pleadingly. "Please Minnie, he's just a baby, he'll die." She held his gaze and nodded. The little boy tried to smile but his chattering lips prevented him from doing little more than grimacing.

Cameron McGonagall allowed his big sister to pull him up by the elbow as he lovingly cradled the little bird in his hands. The two small children glanced at each other and Minerva smiled briefly, muttering "Wait here," before running forwards; out of sight and into the darkness.

Cameron did as he was told. He trusted his big sister. He knew she would never leave him. She would always find him and she would always save him. He felt the baby bird tremble in his hands, he bent his face to it and muttered nonsensical words which he felt would be comforting. The lightning flashed above him.

"Here." She was back. She placed a furry looking bundle at his feet. Although his eyes had somewhat adjusted to the darkness he found it hard to distinguish exactly what it was. Minerva then lifted off her sodden black pinafore, leaving herself in only her white under-dress. She spread the pinafore on the saturated ground and folded it in half two, three, then four times. Her under-dress now stuck to her body and you could see the goosebumps covering her skin below the now sheer material.

She placed the mysterious furry bundle onto the folded pinafore and held her hands out for the tiny bird. Cameron handed it to her, carefully keeping it shielded with his hands, refusing to allow the continuing onslaught of rain to touch it. Minerva took the bird into her hands and placed in onto what her brother now realised to be moss; carefully wrapping the warming materials around its tiny body, leaving its head free. She handed it to her brother, "That should keep him warm."

He gazed at his big sister's face in awe and gratitude. He was only six but she was seven. She was really clever and seemed to know things Cameron never thought he would. She smiled back and held out her hand. He transferred the bundle to his left and held out his right to hold onto his sister.

The lightning flashed above them and they heard a loud noise, like a gunshot. It came from the sky but didn't sound like thunder. Minerva looked up and saw only an enormous black shape descending upon them, blocking out the cloudy sky.

Time seemed to move in slow motion as the branch fell towards them. It was huge. There was no time and no place to run.

Without thinking Minerva pushed her little brother to the ground and fell on top of him. Shielding his little body with her own. She squeezed her eyes shut, her heart in her throat as she clutched onto Cameron's jacket.

She did not scream.

The object fell on top of the two children. Covering them completely. Obscuring them from view.

Minerva McGonagall very slowly opened one eye, then the other. She barely dared try to breathe. She felt no pain. So this what it was like to--

"Minnie," came a little voice. She opened her dry mouth, "Cameron." So he was okay too, she almost sighed with relief, he was alive. They were both alive. But why was there no pain? Why had the rain stopped? Why…? Her train of thought trailed off as she felt the boy shift underneath her in an attempt to free himself. He kept his left arm extended in front of him in an attempt to protect the baby bird.

She turned her head and felt something soft and dry touch her face. She manoeuvred her numb, shivering body into a sitting position. It was a blanket. A huge black fleece blanket.

She looked up at the tree above her. Half of the top was missing and the upper trunk still smoked from where the lightning's fire had been put out by the rainwater. The tree was jagged where the missing branches had been severed. She looked around her. The limbs of the tree were nowhere to be seen… but they had been coming right for them, she had seen it with her very own eyes.

Cameron watched his big sister throw her gaze all around them both. She looked scared. That worried him. She was never scared. She was always really brave and knew exactly what to do. He whispered fearfully "… Minnie…"

Her little brother's use of his pet name jerked her back to reality. It didn't matter what had happened. They were safe. And lucky. This blanket must have been blown to them by the wind. "…Minnie…"

She silenced him with a glance and pulled him towards her as she wrapped them both in the warm, comforting blanket. She glanced one last time around her before taking her little brother's shivering free hand and beginning the long walk back to the farmhouse.


	2. Of Tearooms and Teachers

Chapter One

_Hello! However you have made your way here I would like to welcome you to my little story :) If you're here I'm assuming you have already read the prologue… but now we are on to the story proper. From here onwards you will be taken on a journey which spans the early years of Minerva McGonagall's life. I had originally decided to write a short story but __I'm a stickler for canon so did as much research as I could on her character, her background, you know the drill. Whilst researching I discovered that actually, very little is known about her. Not even her blood status (that I could find anyway.) This opportunity to go a little crazy with artistic license (without going against canon of course), coupled with that when you think about it MM is a very complex and interesting character… I found myself unable to produce a 50,000 word account. I had sooo many ideas and theories there was no way I could incorporate them all into a short story. It was then that McGonagall: A History was born. It is the tale of a muggle who turns into a witch, a little girl who turns into a woman. It is a journey through life, through love, through loss. It is the story of Minerva McGonagall, sister, friend, lover, fighter and teacher._

Chapter One:

Of Tearooms and Teachers

Minerva McGonagall sat, arms folded, as the little carriage she was riding bounced and swayed along the dirt road.

The sun was casting about its golden glow as it sank behind the hills in the distance and she sighed, basking in its glory as she leaned back against the hard wood of the back rest.

"Don't slouch!" her Mother snapped. Minerva supposed she may as well acquiesce. She shuffled back in the seat; straightening her back and folding her hands in her lap as she crossed her ankles.

They had been traveling along the barely stable road for almost three hours and Minerva suspected she would be unable to sit down for the next day or so. The pothole ridden road would undoubtedly be the cause of much bruising. And thanks to her pale skin she bruised like a peach.

She wanted to ask how much further it was until they reached home but knew that her Mother would not appreciate any conversation.

The two were on their way back from town, Inverness to be precise, where they had ventured in order to buy dress making materials. Meant as a 'treat' for her ever-growing daughter Bridget McGonagall had been up at just after first light, rousing her offspring as she went. Within half an hour mother and daughter had been on their way.

The ride had gone peacefully (aside from Minerva's grumpiness... she was by no means a morning person; whether she had ten hours sleep or three the outcome was the same) In an attempt to avoid the much-dreaded early-morning conversations she had busied herself with looking past the carriage and into the surrounding Scottish countryside. It was beautiful, all rolling hills and sweeping fields. Bushes of prickly gorse and purple heather were visible on the distant hills. The occasional tree stood alone, misshapen from the continuous onslaught of harsh weather; the wind and the rain.

She could do this for hours. On the farm she knew every nook and cranny. Every tree every bush every stone. She found the outdoors peaceful.

It had been a very long time since they had taken a trip to Inverness; she could hardly remember it; just a hectic, loud, smelly atmosphere which- she was jerked out of her reverie as she noticed an oddly shaped something speed through the sky in the not so far distance. She narrowed her eyes and placed both her hands on the window sill as she half-stood, leaning almost her whole upper body out of the window to follow the progress of the object. There was nothing there. How odd. She frowned to herself and was about to sit back down when she noticed something even stranger. It was perched on a hill about half a mile from the road. All turrets and stone gargoyles. Huge bay windows and creeping ivy. A castle. It was built on such a massive scale Minerva could see the detailed Gothic architecture clearly. Remaining standing she turned back to her mother who was sitting straight, hands clasped on her lap and eyes closed.

"Mother."

Bridget opened her dark eyes to look at her daughter "Yes,"

"I always thought the McKinnons were the only aristocracy in this area,"

"They are," Bridget prided herself that she was on speaking terms with Elspeth McKinnon.

Minerva sat back down, looking closely at her mothers' face, "Then who lives there?" She pointed out of the window.

Her mother's gaze followed Minerva's finger, her brow creasing. She turned her steady gaze back to her daughter. "I would have thought at your age, Minerva, you should be past this silly phase. I would appreciate it if you refrain from speaking next time such a thought enters your head."

Minerva twisted her face into an expression of confusion "What do you mean?"

Her mother's calm facade failed her briefly "Do not try my patience. It is time you grew out of this silly phase of imaginings and fantasy. Making up stories about castles and strange animals. They may keep you brother's amused but I have had just about enough." Her eyes flashed and she settled back in her seat. Ignoring her daughter.

Minerva sat back and looked out of the window. The rest of the journey had been conducted in silence.

When Mother and daughter eventually reached the small bustling town they alighted from the carriage and made their way to the nearby tea rooms. As they walked through the door a little bell tinkled merrily and a plump, smiling middle age woman approached them, her hands clasped in front of her and her eyes sparkling with some unknown mirth.

"A table for two please." Bridget spoke succinctly.

"Of course, please follow me, right this way." They were led to a table in the far left corner. It was a small round affair, covered in a pale pink cotton table cloth which in turn was covered in sparkling white lace doilies. The smiling woman then pulled a little notebook and pencil-which she licked- from the pocket in her pinny before asking the two, "and what can I get you today dears?"

"A pot of tea for two along with a selection of sandwiches please," was her mothers' prompt reply.

A quick scribble later and the notebook was once again pocketed as the matronly waitress bustled over to another table. Minerva looked around her, the little shop was full; there was only one free table left, just across from their own. She began to study the faces of the women and children all around her-there were no men present she noted- when the little bell tinkled again. She turned to the door to see who would be sitting at the table next to them. She was shocked to see a tall, elegantly dressed woman walk through the door.

Despite being in her late forties she was still a startlingly attractive woman. Her figure was still tall and willowy. Her finely chiseled and aristocratic face was framed with pale blonde hair which had been pinned into a loose bun. She was shown to the table next to their own and began to fiddle with a ribbon around her neck, untying her traveling cloak. The traveling cloak, Minerva's mother had told her just the other week when they had seen several of the wealthier women wearing them to and from church, was all the rage at the moment. Minerva didn't really care. Although she did have to admit it was very pretty. Definitely the nicest she'd seen. It was a dark, almost royal, blue and the material shimmered and shone as it caught the midday light which streamed through the window as though it were meant only for the cloak. It was mesmerising. The lady turned to hand the beautiful cloak to the waitress when her previously stern face was transformed by a warm smile as she noticed Minerva's mother.

'Bridget! How lovely to see you again, I do hope you're well'

Bridget turned at the sound of the voice, a look of pleasant surprise visible upon her face  
'Lady McKinnon! Yes what a lovely surprise! I am very well thank you, and yourself, your family?'

She waved her hand airily "Please, please, Elspeth, call me Elspeth. Oh yes we're all fine. The children are back from school for the summer so it's all very hectic at home, I had to bring my youngest, you know, Frederic, along with me today. He's just not as boisterous as Charles and Annabel. I promised I would buy him some more books." she smiled softly, momentarily lost in thought before her eyes again focused as she blinked "Oh, but forgive me I've been rude. This must be your daughter, Minerva wasn't it?" she held out her gloved hand which Minerva took and shook lightly, reclining her head as it was proper to do, and softly saying

"Very pleased to meet you m'lady."

"No, no," she laughed "Elspeth! Please, Elspeth." she smiled and Minerva returned it.

She wasn't at all how Minerva had expected a Lady to be. She noticed some of the jealous looks her follow diners were directing towards her mother and herself; all Minerva could think was how very silly it was. Elspeth was only a person after all, alright she was a very beautiful, very wealthy person who just happened to live in a castle. But…

She was snapped out of her reverie when the little bell attached to the front door of the establishment tinkled once again. That noise could grow to be quite annoying Minerva thought as she turned to see a boy standing behind her, also clad in a traveling cloak- a fashion she had thought meant only for women- apparently she had been wrong. He shook his blond hair out of his eyes, blue eyes, Minerva noted. He was carrying a rather heavy looking bundle of brown paper packages; he smiled shyly at Minerva before turning his attention to Elspeth, watching amusedly for a moment as she ordered a pot of tea.

"Mother," Minerva looked between the boy and the lady and immediately noticed a resemblance. They had the same fine features; delicate cheekbones and high, arched, pale eyebrows.

Elspeth McKinnon turned "Oh Freddie, sorry dear I didn't see you there." She stood and took the top few packages from the pile. After a nudge from her mother Minerva stood and moved to help, receiving a grateful smile from Elspeth. As she took the last package from the boys arms her hand brushed his and Minerva felt a tingle reach up through her arm and over to her chest, constricting her lungs, making her breath catch in her throat. The boy quickly moved his hand away, a blush coming to his cheeks.

During the mammoth task of unloading the packages Minerva's lunch had arrived and at the sight of the platter of white fluffy crust-less sandwiches her tummy gave an embarrassing rumble. Her cheeks quickly coloured until they resembled nothing less than the pink of the table cloth spread over the table in front of her. She once again took her seat, taking one of the pristine white napkins and spreading it over her lap. She was wearing her best dress today, the one she normally wore for the important events at Church- Christmas mass and christenings, confirmations. Although her Mother seemed in a better mood than earlier in the day she still thought she'd better make a concerted effort to not get food on herself. She looked carefully over the tray of sandwiches in front of her; trying to decide which to have first. They all looked decidedly tasty.

She felt eyes on the back of her neck and turned, catching the eye of Freddie who promptly looked at his own table, seeming all of a sudden very interested in his finger nails. Minerva smiled slightly, not really knowing why, and turned her attention back to her food. She eventually decided on cheese- a classic favourite- and picked it up delicately; transferring it to her plate without dropping any crumbs. She smirked in a rather self-satisfied manner. As she was about to pick up her sandwich she all of a sudden became rather panicky and self-conscious… _What if she dropped it, or missed her mouth or, or… _

At that moment the McKinnon's tea arrived, providing a distraction and excuse to put her sandwich down. As the plump, motherly waitress began to pour the tea a loud noise, a bang, came from the front of the shop, swiftly followed by a woman's scream. Everyone else in the tea room froze and turned to see what the ruckus was all about. Minerva turned in her seat and was presented with a very strange sight indeed.

An owl. And it wasn't even an owl she recognised. Her little brother had an owl, Fluffy, that he had rescued when he was little but this was not him. This owl had bright orange eyes which were surrounded by dark black feathery rings. It was a mottled brown and grey as opposed to Archie's beautiful barn owl which was mostly a snowy white but had a pale brown face and intelligent black eyes.

Upon meeting Minerva's eyes the bird flew straight at her; causing Minerva to duck and the owl to career into the waitress who pitched forwards; her large, matronly bosom knocking the large silver teapot she was pouring out of her hands. It flew through the air before landing on the McKinnons table. Minerva watched as, in slow motion, hot tea splashed onto Elspeth's clothes and beautiful traveling cloak as well as the brown paper packages. Bridget leapt up from her seat in an effort to help Lady McKinnon meanwhile Minerva crouched, still in shock as the large bird picked itself up from the floor and spread it's wings, ruffling it's feathers before hopping onto the chair on which Minerva had previously occupied then dropping a letter on to it, hooting indignantly, then turning and leaping into flight. It left the tea room the way it had come-through the window- leaving destruction in its wake.

Minerva followed the owl's path as it flew over the neighboring buildings and into the distance. She then dragged her eyes back through the tea room. A woman near the open window had fainted and she was surrounded by flustered friends; some small children were crying, being comforted by doting mothers and nannies. Chaos was all around. As people had moved out of the way of the bird they had upended tablecloths and food and drink now covered the carpeted floor. She moved her eyes back to study the scene closest to her and her attention was caught by the letter the owl had dropped in front of her. The envelope was made of a heavy, yellowing parchment-like substance and… the address...

Minerva had to swallow hard. She closed her eyes in a slow blink; first opening one then the other.

It read

_'Miss Minerva McGonagall_

_The left hand corner table_

_Regency Tea Rooms_

_Inverness_

_Scotland'_

And that was why the journey home was not a happy one.

Mother and daughter sat next to each other but the distance between them could not have been further. Bridget McGonagall was humiliated. In the matter of a minute Minerva had managed to destroy any relationship- however distant- Bridget may have had with Elspeth McKinnon. Her clothes and days shopping were ruined. And to top it all off the reason for this disaster was nonsense. More nonsense. Bridget was sick of the silliness. For when Minerva had turned over the letter, so peculiarly addressed, to open it she had studied the wax seal on the back. It was a crest split in to quarters. Each quarter contained a different creature; one, a lion, another a snake, the next a badger and the last a bird which Minerva took to be a hawk. They were all surrounding a large letter 'H'. She had thought it unwise to open the letter there and then. It gave her a funny feeling so she pocketed it before turning to help with the mess around her.

Minerva didn't see how it was her fault really. She didn't ask the bird to come swooping through the window. She certainly hadn't meant for it to knock into the tea lady. Well actually, maybe that was her fault. If she hadn't ducked the bird would never have hit her. But it wasn't like she ducked and thought _'oh goodie now you'll hit the tea lady and spill scalding tea over everything'_ There was one thing that really bothered her though; the McKinnons didn't seem to mind the tea being spilt as such. They did hurry out of the tea room but it was because of something entirely different. Minerva had bent down in an attempt to clear up some of the mess and in doing so the letter had slid from her pocket and landed on the floor, face down. Freddie had bent to pick it up for her before gasping, staring open mouthed at the emerald green writing covering the front of the envelope. Minerva had spun around to see if something was wrong. She'd found an astonished Freddie holding out the letter to his mother who glanced at it, her eyes widening and her mouth opening in a slight 'oh'. She took it from him before peering confusedly at Minerva and handing the letter back to her

'I believe this belongs to you.' All attention was on the tall elegant woman and the lanky awkward girl. With that Elspeth McKinnon flushed and opened her purse, placing some notes on the table cloth before rushing out of the door, her son in tow. Freddie stared at Minerva nearly the whole way out of the door before vanishing into the throngs of busy shoppers.

She shifted in the hard wooden seat. Surely they were almost home now. It was starting to get dark. They were taking the long way home; over small country roads rather than on the one they had taken to get to the town. Minerva suspected it was because of what she had noticed on the way. That castle. It was like an omen. A warning that things were going to go wrong. They had hurried from the tea rooms shortly after the McKinnons' departure. Bridget had hurried straight back to the carriage, Minerva almost jogging to keep up, the letter clutched in her hand. Once seated Bridget had told the driver, one of her husbands farm hands, to make his way straight home and to go a different way to the one they had come.

When the carriage had started moving Bridget had turned to her daughter.

'What is that letter?'

Minerva didn't speak, she simply opened the hand that held the now crumpled letter and stared at it. Her face drained of all colour. The address had changed. It now read

_Miss Minerva McGonagall_

_The Old Wooden Carriage_

_The Road from Inverness to Cantraywood_

_Scotland_

"What Minerva? What is that letter? Is it addressed to you?" She held her shaking hand out and Bridget took the envelope from her, glancing at the address before raising an eyebrow. Her face was straight, grim. She handed it back to her daughter and said evenly, monotonously "Are you going to open it." It was not a request, it was an order. With shaking hands Minerva slid her thumb underneath the top of the envelope flap and moved it towards the wax. As it came in contact with the wax she pushed through it, breaking the seal and folded back the top. With that she reached inside and pulled out a thick letter. Opening it she first read the words

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Armando Dippet

_Dear Miss McGonagall,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1st__September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_Deputy Headmaster_

Minerva looked up at her mother, her eyes wide, before taking the letter and placing it behind what she now knew to be the equipment list. It read

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Uniform

_First-year students will require:_

_Three sets of plain work robes (black)_

_One plain pointed hat (black)_

_One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

_One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)_

_Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags._

Set Books

_All students should have a copy of the following:_

The Standard Book of Spells Grade One (Third Edition) _by Miranda Goshawk_

The Last Millennia- A Study of European Wizarding Affairs _by Pierre Histoire_

Magical Theory by _Adalbert Waffling_

A Beginners Guide to Transfiguration _by Emeric Switch_

731 Magical Herbs and Fungi _by Gerald Spore_

A Practical and Theoretical Guide to the Basics of Potion Brewing _by Aqueous Jones _

The Complete Encyclopedia of Magical Beasts and Creatures _by Fauna Merryweather_

The Beginners Guide to Defense _by Armorus Hedge_

Other Equipment

_1 wand_

_1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_

_1 set glass or crystal phials_

_1 telescope_

_1 set brass scales_

_Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad_

_Parents are reminded that first-years are not allowed their own broomsticks_

A wand.

A magic wand.

"Minerva." she looked her mother. She was looking straight ahead of her. Not at her daughter. "What does it say?" Minerva reached over and placed the letter in her mothers lap before sitting back in her seat. Looking straight ahead. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her mother look down at the paper in her lap before picking it up. Minerva couldn't look at her mother. Her mind was racing. She had no idea what to do. No idea what to think. Was it a joke? It could be, but how could the address have changed? And why was it delivered by an owl, what was wrong with the postal service? And why had Elspeth and Frederick reacted that way when they saw the envelope? It was as though they knew what it was. Were they in on it? Was it some sort of prank that went wrong? Was that why they had run out of the tea rooms?

Minerva just didn't know. She couldn't bring herself to look at her mother. But a school of witchcraft and wizardry. A place to learn magic. It sounded amazing. Completely amazing. If Minerva were a... witch. A lot would be explained. Like why she sometimes saw things no-one else did. And it would give a reason for all the odd things that had happened around her over the years.

She remembered, only a matter of months ago, her mother had been telling her off for not being lady-like enough (she had been climbing trees with her brothers). It had made her so angry. She remembered gripping onto the seat of the chair so tightly her fingers went numb, she had clenched her back teeth until her jaw ached. They were both sat at the big wooden table in the kitchen, opposite each other. Bridget had a glass of milk in front of her which Minerva had stared at. Determined not to look at her mother. Bridget had moved her hand forward to take hold of the glass but as the palm of her hand came in contact with it she had jerked it away, sucking in air through her front teeth, a noise made in pain. Her hand had gone red, as though it had been scalded with hot water or steam.

Maybe Minerva had done that. She felt sick. She had hurt her mother because of this... magic.

"Did you do this." Bridget was looking at her, her eyes were angry; her mouth was set in a straight line.

She looked at her mother incredulously "Did I... what? Why would I...?" she was so shocked by the accusation she couldn't even think of a reply.

Bridget shook the letter in front of Minerva's face. "Did. You. Do. This."

"No!"

Her mother just stared at her.

"But I think the McKinnons may have something to do with it. As soon as they saw the letter they rushed out!"

"Because they saw the letter!? They left because the _owl_ that delivered your letter caused scalding hot tea to cover them and all of their things! Not because of your letter! I'm going to ask you one last time Minerva. Did you do this. Some kind of a prank or a joke. Because it is not funny. It is not amusing in the _slightest_. You embarrassed me. Humiliated me. Us. Did you see the way people were looking at us? I am so disappointed in you." With that she turned away.

"But I didn't, why would I, it wasn't me!"

This time her mother lost her temper "Then who was it Minerva!? Who was it!? Who would do that!? Do. Not. Lie. To. Me."

"But,"

"Be quiet! I do not want to hear it Minerva. I do not want to hear another word out of you for the rest of the journey unless you eventually decide to act like an adult and admit your behaviour and apologise for it." With that she had sat back in her seat, back straight, ankles crossed and hands folded in her lap.

That was how the two were to be found almost three hours later. They rounded a corner in the road and there it was, in the distance; the farm. Minerva almost sighed with relief. She had to tell her brothers, Cameron and Archie about all this. See what they thought of it. As they neared the house Bridget eventually spoke "You will not mention this to your father." As the carriage pulled through the gates that lead to the holding Minerva got a very funny feeling in her tummy. As though something was going to happen.

When the carriage stopped she waited until her mother had opened the door and exited before she herself left. As she neared the front door of the farmhouse she looked down again at the letter in her hand before pushing the handle and stepping through, taking off her coat and hanging it on the coat stand. She took a deep breath before pushing open the door that lead to the sitting room; as she stepped through she noticed an elderly lady sitting on the chair opposite, facing the window. Standing in front of the window was Minerva's mother, a look of abject horror visible on her face. Her father was sat simply staring at the stranger.

As Minerva closed the door behind her the mysterious guest turned to face the girl. She had short, tightly curled hair, once a very dark brown but now streaked with grey. She was wearing a peach colour cloak and as she turned to Minerva she smiled before standing and walking over, extending her hand, the little lines around her mouth crinkling as she smiled saying "Hello Minerva, my name is Professor Davies, I'll be your Herbology teacher at Hogwarts."

_So there we have it! The first chapter of McGonagall: A History! Did you love it or hate it? Did you enjoy it or find it boring? Any opinions are welcome so please review :) I actually have the first seven chapters written so can update pretty much anytime… but I've decided to keep each update on hold until I have received a good few reviews from the previous chapter. I don't have a beta you see (no-one wanted me sob) so reviews are really the only way I can get opinions on my work. Anything constructive I will try to incorporate into the next chapter… so waiting to update is really for the good of my story. On the subject though… If anyone is interested in being my beta then please let me know- you would be in for the long haul though so experience would be appreciated :) Anywho, so yes, I hope to hear from you soon and hopefully it shouldn't be too long before the next chapter is posted!_

_Thank you for reading!_


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